


Left in Pieces

by ShrupInterrupts



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But not today, Depersonalization, Depression, I will stop projecting my problems onto the sad dads one day, M/M, Other tags to be added, but I THINK it'll end okay, this is gonna hurt guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10553940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrupInterrupts/pseuds/ShrupInterrupts
Summary: This is how they fall apart both together and alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while since I wrote anything. Using this to help move through my own issues, so beware of darker themes. Nothing particularly graphic right now. The symptoms they experience are all similar or direct translations of my own but I was interested in exploring how they might handle them and how each one's reactions may fuel or foil the other's especially as time passes. 
> 
> This first chapter is set around the time of the latest comic maybe a little bit after. Chapters 2 and 3 will follow post-Recall Jack and Gabe and Chapter 4 is...well further along in Recalled Overwatch's timeline.

Gabriel ignores the bloated static in his brain as he pulls on his boots. Sitting at the edge of the bed, the predawn light barely makes it past the windows steeping them in a comfortable world of shadow. Jack won't be up for a little bit longer. He doesn't want to wake the man. Not yet. Let him sleep. It's not that he's dreading the conversation they'll have when Jack find him not just up early but gone on another undisclosed mission. No.

He can live with the blatant denial.

He can ignore the jumble of fuzz and worries pulling his head in six different directions. There's a mission to be completed. Stay dialed in and he should be back to Jack's side before nightfall. They will talk it out. Or ignore it altogether. Like always. Maybe this time he'll have the proof he needs when he gets back.

He can do this. He pretends like he doesn't want to curl up and disappear under the blankets again.

The first hints of morning light shift through the blinds as he reaches back for his beanie. He almost misses the glimmer of Jack's eyes through narrowly slitted lashes. The smallest flash in the dark silhouette of his face. Watching. Awake.

Gabriel pulls his beanie close and can't stop the way his shoulders draw tight. No use in pretending they haven't noticed one another. 

"Morning sunshine." He tries for his usual flippant mirth, stomping down the guilt that knots in his core. He's found it's easier to deflect with a smile and a shrug than to growl. It's getting harder to muster up the will to keep grinning though. He feels like he doesn't have as much energy for it now adays, let alone patience.

Jack seems to have run out entirely.

"Seeing you run out on an op I know isn't approved should be more surprising than it is." His voice is flat, deadpan as he shifts but makes no move to get up. Gabriel breaks Jack’s accusing stare to slip his beanie on.

"What can I say? I enjoy consistency." He grins, hoping it looks less strained than it feels. "Not like you'd approved if I'd asked." The facade is falling, his voice bearing just a hint of sharpness. He doesn't mean for it to be there but this is a conversation and argument they've had time and time again. 

Jack zeros in on his discontent.

"Right." He exhales sharply, a bitter sound drawing cold claws across Gabriel's gut. "Consistently hiding things and sneaking out while cutting me out. Just the kind of thing I love."

They haven't said I love you in a long time. It's the first thing Gabriel can think of. It hurts to hear the word now. He crushes the feeling, willing himself not to snap back, not to escalate. Jack doesn't often lose his temper, not when he's so exhausted lately. He's sure this'll blow over soon enough. They’re both spread too thin to maintain these kinds of fights.

"Is this another of _those_ missions, Gabe?" 

One of _those_. Gabriel hates the way he phrases it. He can hear the disdain drip form each syllable. They both know about Overwatch's crumbling reputation, questionable leaks. But where Jack resigns himself to damage control Gabriel knows a setup when he sees one. There are too many things gone foul. There is someone else playing them, trying to rip them apart. He knows it.

But Jack doesn't. Hates that Gabriel spends his time looking for 'boogeymen'. But today, he might have finally found them, or an outpost at least. He needs this. Needs to know they are real, put a name to the group trying to rip apart everything they've built. 

He has to prove it to Jack. But so far these missions only produce empty facility after empty facility. A waste of Blackwatch resources at best. Damning evidence of 'unstable behavior' at worst. With snakes in the wings it could easily be used against him. He bites his lip and says nothing.

Jack understands Gabriel's silence, "It is."

He hazards a look over his shoulder, notices that Jack's propped himself up on one arm, hair still sleep mussed. His eyes shine, livid and dancing and more animated than Gabriel's seen in him a long while. Lately it's been too many smiles that don't reach his blue eyes, too many moments when he thinks no one is watching and the mask slips as he buries his face in his hands. 

It's a hollowness that Gabriel knows well enough. Both of them slipping further and further down their respective holes, a blankness broken only by this kind of fire. Sometimes Jack's. Sometimes his. It's crept into their lives and settled itself over the comfortable, affectionate relationship they once shared.

He can't find the strength to span the chasm anymore. It takes all of his energy just to deflect. Laugh and clap Jesse on the back. Make a joke about the damn statue. Make a joke about their lack of funding, support, acknowledgment, everything, smile smile smile. Just don't let anyone close enough to see how utterly empty he's felt for countless days. 

"It is," Gabriel repeats, hearing the nervousness in his own voice over the flat tone. He shakes his head, can't stand watching Jack's face twist into a sneer. He doesn't want to have this talk. Not now. Maybe not ever.

It feels like when they were pinned in Spokane, omnics marching overhead while him and Jack and Liao squatted in the basement. Trapped. Trembling. He has to go. This is too much- everything is rushing up at him- there are teeth at his throat and he can't-

The curtain that drops on his mounting anxiety is a brutal relief. He hears Jack flop back into the mattress with a sigh that sounds too much like surrender. He sounds so distant. 

Gabriel would be worried but- it's strange, this hasn't happened before- he doesn't feel quite all there. The hands he sees when he pushes himself up from the bed don't feel like his. They are but it's like someone has taken a picture from his eyes and zoomed out, tilted everything just enough to feel wrong.

"I'm tired, Gabriel." Jack's voice wavers, swinging wildly form angry to hurt. "Don't stonewall me. I need you to talk to me."

He's being selfish. Gabriel knows, feels himself floating through the motions of turning to look at Jack on the bed. He's running away because there's static in his head and he can't get past it, can't make himself feel the things he should be feeling. He should be worried. He should comfort Jack. He should tell him everything. He should do anything besides stand there and state in a voice that's so flat it feels like it's fake, "I can't do this Jackie."

There's a rush of emotions across Jack face, obscured by the darkness of the room and too fast to be discernable. He knows it's the wrong thing to say but he just can't rouse his body or mind to do anything but stand there and wait. 

"You can't do this?" The sharp incredulity of Jack's voice pulls at his chest as the blond practically springs into a sitting position. 

His eyes shine, wet and glassy. Jack always was an angry crier. His mouth twists in what might have been a snarl but looks more like a grimace. His brows draw up then down and together. 

Gabriel says nothing. Feels...too much. So much it becomes noise. 

"Fine." The word is a single hard point pressed to Gabriel's heart, shot straight through perfect teeth bared like fangs. He has no defenses again Jack's anger. No energy to explain.

"Get out then."

The words punch through him, shatter something in his chest like fine china. He screams inside before the static washes over him, numbing everything in its wake. He blinks. It's all he can manage, feeling Gabriel seep further and further away from the body standing in the room looking at Jack.

"Get out!" Jack hisses, tears finally spilling over. 

Gabriel pulls away from watching two men's hearts break. Get out. He's watching a man who can't muster up the energy to cry or apologize or say anything at all, who turns on mechanical legs and starts toward the door. Get out. Watches his body fail to react to the broken, watery sob that breaks through Jack's clenched teeth as he opens the door. 

Get out.

He says nothing and goes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exhaustion is an old acquaintance by this point. It strips him bare and fills him with doubt.

76 was certain he should turn on the light. The door to his quarters slid shut with a sharp hiss as he failed to do little more than stand and breathe. There was little light from the shaded window, leaving him blinder than usual.

He should definitely turn on the light. The last thing he needed was one of the young ones to come around and find the old bind man standing in the dark. They’d ask questions he wasn’t prepared to discuss. Maybe he needed to. Maybe they would find him like this, not that they sought him out that often anyway. He wasn't very good company.

He should definitely turn on the light.

He stepped carefully forward, hands limp at his side. Shuffling across the room was simple enough even in the dark. He didn’t have enough personal belongings to make a mess, just his rifle and cleaning kit laid out haphazardly on the desk. He slumped into the bed, feet dangling over the side as he sat back against the wall.

His head was full of water, sloshing back and forth over his thoughts. It would be comfortable if he could fixate on something besides how pathetic he felt. Sitting in the dark like a brooding child. A miserable knot twisted in his chest as his head thumped back against the wall.

They would have training in the morning. He should go over his notes. He should seek out his teammates. The drill was on...Driving? He frowns, knowing that wasn’t the word. They’re infiltration drills. But fast. In and out. They’re- They’re-

He growls. Nothing but water, vast and heavy between his ears.

He could just get up and look at his notes. But the rise and fall of his chest, of simply sitting still and existing took more energy than he had to spare. It was weak and 76 hated it.

His bones ached with a hollowness too deep to pinpoint. Maybe it was arthritis. That hardly made his present state any more acceptable though. He didn't have the strength to even help himself. Absolutely pathetic. 

It’s been a month since he came back to Overwatch, having run out of leads to follow with Ana. There had been nowhere else to go. Living with others was proving...stessful. He couldn’t keep hiding from his new team. One day they were going to find him when he was at his worst like this. One day they’d see just how far he’d fallen. They'd not want such a problem in their midst.

**Or you’ll drive them away like you did Gabe.**

The thought cut through the water like a knife. Unbidden and unwelcome, it burrowed into his chest, pulling on the shrapnel left in his heart. 76 slid sideways down the wall until his face hit the pillow. Legs drawn up he sighed, it was going to be one of those nights.

Numbness crept up his spine. 

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale.

But it would be okay.

**You keep lying to yourself. Typical.**

In the morning he’d get up. He’d put on his visor and strap on his boots and go down for training. He’d get through the day and maybe even feel a spark of...anything that wasn’t _this_. And if not, he could keep up the act.

**Are you sure about that?**

He could keep them from seeing it. He could keep this from ending up like him and Gabe.

That’s right.

He’d feel better in the morning.

**When was the last time you felt anything at all?**

There was knocking at the door. His brain moved sluggishly, unsure how long the sound had been there. One leg then the other. He hauled himself upright with a wordless sound of exertion. Crawling back to the door was an endeavor. He took a moment to breathe before the door slid open, leaving him blinking blearily as the hallway light poured into his face.

Dark smudges resolved into the blury form of Hana Song. A slash of white across her features told him she was smiling, as if it hadn't taken him an unusually long time to just answer the damn door. His gut churned. 

"Oh did I wake you 76?" Her head inclined just enough for him to notice, peering into the darkness behind him. His eyes were too useless to tell gim what she saw. To know what kind of expression she was making now. Jack hoped she didn't noticed how he was falling apart. Hoped she did. "It's curry night." She said.

And for a brief moment Jack felt his chest draw tight. Team curry night. Everyone gathered around a table together, laughing smiling. While he genuinely enjoyed their company it was so much work. Sit straight, don't look too tense, look interested in the conversation but not enough to be asked to contribute lest they find out he was struggling to keep up. They switched topics so fast sometimes, or he might forget where a story started halfway through. Shovel food in his face even when he wasn't sure he was hungry. Be careful so they didn't see past the carefully constructed distance. He wasn't sure he could handle it. Not now. Not-

Hana continued, unaware of his mounting concern, "Lucio said he saw you headed this way so I brought you some."

His gaze landed on the bowl in her hands for the first time. The dark contents smelt of the warm spices and he could make out a few slices of naan bread tucked against the edge. Numb hands rose to take it from her before he was fully aware of doing so. Warmth spread through his fingers through the ceramic pleasantly. He looked at his hands, unable to meet her gaze. "I-" There were words in his throat under the waves. "Thanks" It sounded lame and flat even to his own ears. Didn't contain his actual gratitude. 

**Useless. Pathetic.**

He withered under the thought.

She turned on her heels with a small laugh, blithe in a way Jack hadn't felt in years. "Don't worry about it. We all need space sometimes..." She hesitated, just a stutter in her step and a twitch of the shoulders that gave away how she was trying to not look back at him. To give him much needed privacy. 

When she spoke again it was quiet, like a secret shared between them, "It's okay to be too tired. We'll be here when you're ready." She disappeared around the corner.

Jack stood in the doorway clutching the cooling bowl of food, chest twisted like vipers and eyes burning. Maybe he couldn't keep them from seeing it. Maybe not all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! Sorry for the delay. Writing heavy topics can unsurprisingly bring down my mood so I had to step back after drafting out this chpater and the next. 
> 
> But! I'm back now and should be updating regularly. Next chapter will be a Gabriel-centric one.


End file.
